Daemon Way

Teacher

Chapter Sixty-Six = Concluding chapter X

Unbeknownst to Juan, he was not the only one thinking of Ramon. At that moment fourteen-year-old Anton Gilles, snuggled up to his lover and master up in his bedroom and unaware of the goings-ons of his two brothers-in-law, sisters, and father, was recalling the events and people responsible for his unexpected present contentment and bliss. Initially there had been a time of confusion and chaos and of pain and embarrassment, back two years ago when he and his brothers had suddenly been yanked from their daily routines and comfortable lives and forced to engage in disgusting and humiliating acts with each other, with his father, with Cory Wilson and his close buddies, and with Bob Moser and the Spudder brothers. That had been a painfully unhappy and shame-filled period of his life he'd just as soon forget. It had been the end of his life as, he knew now, a pampered, spoiled obnoxious but contented little brat and the beginning of a new and very wretched and tormented life.

As the months had passed by he'd slowly discovered his Goth self and his gay orientation and he'd entered the third phase of his life, engaging in a frenzy of sex-related activities driven by lust and an awareness of his sexuality. Much of that period was a blur of faceless Johns and back alley and bathroom sex and an overwhelming desire for cock, any cock, any way he could get it. That had been a happier time, the constant physical stimulation and the physical pleasure of sex at least making his bouts of depression and low sense of worth at least bearable when he sat there in a puddle of piss in the boy's room being laughed at and looked upon with contempt by his classmates, or when he saw the looks in people's eyes as he stood on the street corner selling himself.

Then last April, just over a year ago now, his father, kid sister and brother, and himself had unwillingly gotten their Mohawk haircuts and he began hanging around with an older crowd of teens and young adults, individuals like Deathboy, Fang, and Sarsparilla, a group of social outcasts that never went by their given names and had banded together for support, a group bound together by their rejection of society and society's rejection of them, their rejection of religion in favour of Satanism, and their interest in vampires and all things Gothic. Those had been weird times and though he hadn't believed in any of the stuff they did, he knew about rejection by his peers and his father and older brother and he needed a family badly.

So he got a Prince Albert and his scrotum pierced with a Jacob's ladder of six rings, but he drew the line at sticking pins in his nipples or cutting swastikas into his skin like the rest of them, and cutting himself and sucking his blood. He had sex with Sarsparilla and a couple of the other young teen girls because they were turned on by his looks, he really didn't enjoy it. Sex with Crackpot on the other hand was a much different matter. Crackpot was always spaced out, usually on crack and hence his name, and truly and honestly thought he was a five-hundred-year-old vampire, and fully accepted Anne Rice's version that vampires were gay, having a complete collection of all her work and reading them intently whenever he wasn't high.

He and Crackpot became a couple for two months during which time Anton rarely had sex with others. They weren't really lovers. It was more of a master-apprentice relationship during which Anton learned a lot about vampires and witchcraft and herbs and mushrooms, Crackpot being really into the medicinal benefits of both. Anton had experienced his first Peyote vision and his first Magic Mushroom hallucination with Crackpot. Sex with Crackpot was always intense, under the influence of drugs or not, and in the two months they were together Anton learned a lot about obeying and pleasing a master, and the darker side of an S-M relationship, and he found joy in his masochistic role.

Crackpot wore his long, black hair slicked back greaser style of the 1960's, and he wore thick eyeliner and black eyeshadow and lipstick, which stood out and made his pallid skin look even paler. He honestly believed direct contact with the sun's rays would kill him and he rarely went outside in the daytime, and if he did, it was covered head to toe in black, which he always wore anyway except for the red lining of his cape, including gloves and a ski mask and thick cowl over his head. His favourite foreplay was to chain Anton to a cross while dressed like that, Anton having drawn the line at being nailed to the cross which Crackpot said apprentices in his earlier lives had willingly done. Crackpot would then slowly and seductively strip him, cutting away his clothing with a razor blade, revealing first just a nipple, which he'd caress and lick until it was hard, and then the other nipple, a testicle, and so on, Anton wearing a stretch nylon T and pants, both black, which Crackpot always replaced.

He allowed himself to be nicked in the fleshy pad of his thumb so his blood would trickle into his palm and down his forearm, which Crackpot would lick up with his long, pointed tongue. He similarly allowed himself to be nicked above the nipples so the blood would flow down over them and Crackpot could lick his bloody teats, and of course his shaved groin so Crackpot could lap up the trickles of blood trickling over his cock and his balls. Crackpot took it slowly, keeping his nipples and cock hard for hours, allowing the tension and the lust to build up until at last Crackpot took him savagely, usually turning him around and raping him there on the cross or sometimes unchaining him and having him drop to his knees in front of the cross and take him in his mouth. And he brought Anton off, licking his dick or jacking him off. Anton was one of those boys whose sexual maturity was delayed and though able to cum more regularly now, it was a thin and watery load compared to Crackpot's thick slime. Crackpot usually brought him off in a chalice, to which he added a few drops of Anton's blood by nicking his foreskin, and then shared the mix with his young apprentice. Anton didn't mind. Crackpot always treated him well and lavished him with gifts afterwards, expensive rings and studs, fine-linked gold and silver chains and fine silk garments.

Then, one Sunday in the middle of last summer, four months after he, his father, and his younger brother and sister had gotten their Mohawk haircuts, his life took still another turn down still another new path, thanks to young Jonah Winthrop. He had first met Jonah back when Jonah was seven and he was twelve at the party Cory had held where Dominic Halder had lost his prune and he'd been forced to lick young Dominic's ass to get it slippery with spit, and to suck out Cory's cum after he'd fucked the boy. After felching Dominic, he and his best buddy Jason Freeman had been forced to jack off a black sleaze ball friend of Cory's called Billy Dean, who was balling his sister at the time and would eventually become his brother-in-law, while Billy had jacked them off.

Three weeks later, at another of Cory's parties, he had been forced to admit he'd fucked ass and that he'd had his fucked, and that he liked getting fucked. That night his ass had been fucked by every guy in the party, beginning with Jonah, who had never fucked ass before. That had been humiliating, getting fucked by every guy at the party, and especially by a boy five years younger than himself in front of a bunch of other guys, but it had felt awesome too. Later that night he had engaged in a daisy chain, he sucking Cory's buddy Terry who had sucked Jonah who had sucked him. And in the morning when he and Jonah woke up and found everyone sucking, the two of them had engaged in a sixty-nine. That was the night he'd come to realize just how much he enjoyed bringing other guys off.

Three months later, on Valentine's day, just over a year ago now, he'd been picked up much to his surprise and embarrassment by his German teacher Jacob Schuller who took him to his home and shot a porno movie of him and Jonah with Jonah pretending to be his rich master and he Jonah's boytoy slave. He'd gotten spanked and whipped by Jonah, had been forced to lick the seven-year-old boy's feet and asshole, and then had gotten fucked by Jonah while sucking off his teacher who was posing as a butler. There was more. He'd gotten fisted for the first time, by Jonah, a boy five years younger than himself, in front of his teacher and on film. That day had been the most humiliating, and the most erotic experience he'd ever had, one that he'd often fallen asleep thinking about after a hot bedtime jerk session.

Anyway, that Sunday nine months ago he'd been in one of his bitchy moods, feeling particularly down and useless, and he had gone down to Riverside Westbank Park where he often went to think, enjoying the quiet and serenity of the landscaped grounds and flower gardens and the secluded spots where a guy could be alone. He had spotted Jonah and his family having their traditional after services picnic lunch and had begun to circle around them but Jonah had spotted him also and had called out for him to join them. He had wanted to be alone and had declined but Jonah and his family had insisted in their sickeningly sweet Christian way and so he had finally given in. It had actually distracted him from his dour thoughts for a while as they shared the lavish spread Mrs Winthrop always prepared for her brood of eight, five boys and three girls from the ages of two to nineteen, with another, a girl she hoped, on the way.

However, seeing how happy and close the Winthrops all were compared to his weird and dysfunctional family who seldom talked to each other anymore and who had just gone through the stress of his father losing his job and the works of them being kicked out of school, he and his brothers out of the Royal Glencoe Academy for Boys, and his sisters out of Gladys Harper Private School for Girls, and now Cory and his mother having this weird and impossible idea of moving out of the only home he'd ever known to a mansion out in Mountainview Estates, it got him feeling miserable and sorry for himself all over again. After their picnic lunch he and Jonah strolled off and he found himself over in the clearing near the freeway where he and his father and brothers had been forced to service Bob Moser and the Spudder brothers a little better than a year and half ago though it now seemed like ages, which made him feel all the more depressed.

Jonah had to have sensed his dark mood, which wouldn't have taken any great skill considering how Anton was feeling. The boy had asked what was wrong and Anton had found himself telling Jonah everything, about his father losing his job and thinking about starting a private school and how they'd all been kicked out of school, how his family never talked or did anything together and how they'd all begun doing the weirdest and most perverted things, his father doing it with dogs and eating shit, his mother doing it with a boy only a year older than himself and obviously pregnant by him, his older sister making out with and obviously pregnant by a nigger years older than herself, his kid brother finger fucking himself to sleep every night, and his kid sister having a thing for sniffing boys' underwear. As for himself, Anton told how empty and pointless his life seemed, and how miserable he was with his life, and how that the things he was doing with the group he was hanging with brought him great physical pleasure but when they were over he felt disgusted and ashamed with himself. Opening up to a boy five years younger than he was, a boy who had just finished grade three while he was about to go into grade nine was weird in itself, but then the kid was the son of a preacher.

To his surprise, Jonah had said he understood, and that his family was going through a lot of turmoil and stress too despite outward appearances, his father having become so obsessed with sin and wickedness he had become even more of a tyrant in running the lives of his family than he'd already been, constantly coming up with new and stricter rules, setting totally unreasonable curfews and conditions on the things they could do and the friends they could have, which his older siblings had a particularly difficult time with. Jonah added that his father's punishments were also becoming harsher and more severe for breaking the rules, and to illustrate his point he had lifted his shirt and shown Anton the welts across his back and had said those across his bum were even worse. Though Anton's own father did some weird things at least he didn't beat him, and for that Anton was grateful. Jonah said his mother figured his father was on the verge of a mental breakdown and attributed it to the stress of his job and had been urging him to hire an assistant preacher. She said his father took things too personally in his attempt to save everyone from hell. Despite the way his father had treated him, Jonah felt sad for his father and wished there was something he could do to help him.

Anton was about to say he was living in hell and that worshipping Satan didn't seem to make things any better than worshipping God, but considering he was talking to a preacher's son, he figured he'd best keep quiet. Jonah, having the same oratory gift as his father, either through inheritance or by following his father's example, and really warming up to the topic, didn't notice Anton's pause and kept on talking, saying he also understood about the need to have a purpose in your life, a goal. That was what drove his father to such extremes, having a goal to save souls just like his father before him. According to his father it was good to have order and control and to obey orders, something few did today, and he agreed. He observed that his father had often said that a person needed a purpose in his life or he would succumb to the whims of Satan, and that his father had also said that everyone, children and adults, needed direction and discipline from a guide who was wiser and stronger, whether that be a parent, a teacher, a preacher, a bishop, or God Himself. Jonah observed his father especially said that when he caned his bum for being sinful, like for taking a cookie from the cookie jar before dinner and stuff, and when his father rimmed and sucked his bumhole and then had Jonah fuck his ass, saying also that it was important a father and son share the one thing that only men can share.

Somehow just talking had made Anton feel better. They had wandered to the clearing behind the hedge row that marked the boundary of the park and hid the freeway on the other side, the spot where he and his father had often come to service Bob Moser and the Spudder brothers, and where, unbeknownst to him, Jonah had engaged in his first sixty-nine and had performed his first felching, both with Anton's father three weeks before the first time Anton had sex with his father. What happened next just came natural to the two of them. He'd turned to say thanks to Jonah for listening to him and Jonah had looked up at him with those beautiful, deep blue eyes and long blond eyelashes that melted the hearts of women and boylovers, and the two of them kissed.

Jonah's breath had been sweet and his lips tasted of cinnamon and his mother's apple pie, and his long, blond hair cascading in waves over his shoulders was fine and silky and smelled so fresh and clean. They kissed again, and again, and they pulled each other's shirt out of each other's jeans and slipped their hands under each other's shirt and began to caress each other's smooth back. At seven going on eight Jonah's body was firm and slender and smooth, no longer the body of a little boy but not yet the body of an adolescent. Anton, having turned thirteen three months earlier, was slender and his body solid and muscular but still having the soft, rounded contours of pre-adolescence, the boy being a late bloomer. Soon they had unbuttoned each other's shirt and were caressing each other's chests, expertly arousing and stimulating each other with their lips, tongues and fingertips with a skill way beyond their tender ages.

Their youthfulness became even more evident as they chucked their jeans and underwear and revealed their tender young boy cocks, Anton's not being that much longer nor thicker than young Jonah's. His pubes were hairless too, in his case due to shaving, and though he had a series of six gold rings attached to his young, slightly darkening testicles which were still sporadically producing cum, and a Prince Albert inserted in his knob, his piercings added rather than distracted from the childish appearance of his young equipment. Jonah's delightful jewels on the other hand were unadorned and a soft whitish pink just like the rest of his untanned stomach and hairless pubes, his foreskin still tight and totally encasing his knob, both the same milky colour as his shaft and his tiny, wrinkled immature balls.

Jonah entering that age where boys are ferociously homophobic and Anton at that age where such matters as masculinity and sexual orientation are confusing and worrisome, what the two boys did next was not typical of boys their ages. The two boys for very different reasons, though they did have in common an individual who had helped both set off on a more enlightened path than most boys, felt no such shame nor guilt in seeking pleasure with that which made them male, nor in doing so with another individual of the same sex. The two boys were fully erect, and while they kissed and embraced as they stood there naked in the clearing, seven-year-old Jonah reached behind the older boy and slipped his middle finger into his eager, hot chute. Accustomed to being finger fucked by himself and by others, Anton readily opened up to the young boy's slender digit, and Jonah, accustomed to fucking others with his finger, slowly and expertly inserted his digit up the older boy's hot, moist chamber. That finger was soon joined by a second, and then a third, and then ever so slowly and expertly and carefully, young Jonah slipped his fist into the older boy's rectum.

Anton inhaled deeply with the exquisite pleasure of having his anus spread open wider than it ever had before, and wider than any cock could stretch it, and with the memory of the first time he'd felt a fist up his rectum, which of course had been Jonah's now fifteen months ago. Jonah nibbled on the back of Anton's neck as he fucked the thirteen-year-old's ass with his fist there in the fresh summer air that Sunday afternoon in the park, and it was not long before he brought the panting, squirming boy off, Anton spreading his legs and gasping with pleasure as his thin, early teen cum spurted out of his wagging cock and sprayed the grass. As Jonah eased his fist out of Anton's rectum, Anton turned and immediately dropped to his knees and took the seven-year-old's slender cock in his mouth and began to suck him off, and with the little pervert's skills it was not long before the youngster was grasping Anton's shoulders and arching his body back as he trembled with a powerful dry orgasm.

That was the beginning of a four-month relationship during which Jonah became Anton's mentor, and his master, and Anton willingly became Jonah's pupil and slave. He had always found joy in bringing others pleasure, men and boys though especially the latter, and he delighted in their sexual ecstasy as much as he delighted in the taste and feel of their cocks. Through Jonah Anton learned a totally different way to bring another boy pleasure, that being to obey and to serve him, in all ways, not just fulfilling his sexual desires, though the two combined was the greatest pleasure of them all. From Jonah he learned to unselfishly bring another boy pleasure in whatever way he wanted, physically, mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually, for that, Jonah said, emulated the relationship between Christians and God and the order of the world.

They spent many hours talking about the order of the world and about religion, Jonah sitting on a foot stool and he on the floor at his master's feet. And as they talked he massaged Jonah's slender, young feet with his long, skilful fingers, and he licked his soles and sucked on his toes and wiggled his tongue between his digits, delighting in the hot sneaker smell of the youngster's feet, which relaxed him and pleased him as much as his foot play relaxed and pleased Jonah. He loved the way the seven-year-old giggled when he tickled his soles with his tongue. Of course their foot play was only the beginning, and his tongue eventually travelled up along Jonah's slender legs and tickled his sensitive inner thighs before moving on to lick his tender young balls and his by then erect and aching young cocklet, licking and teasing it until Jonah jerked uncontrollably with his dry orgasm.

When Jonah had turned eight at the end of August, Anton had eagerly rimmed the youngster on his birthday as he'd lain on his back on his bed up in his bedroom and had raised his rump and spread his legs for him while Jonah's parents were downstairs having a second piece of birthday cake, blissfully unaware of what their young son was doing. He'd eagerly wormed his tongue up Jonah's dank hole and with his tongue up his rectum he'd pressed his lips against his anus and sucked on his hole, delighting in its dank smell and taste. Having his asshole rimmed and sucked was Jonah's favourite sex act, next to fisting others. Of course over their four-month relationship he gave the boy many blow jobs besides, and bent over and let the boy take him up the ass, and he delighted in being fisted until Jonah made him spurt.

Anton smiled as he recalled their nights together, and he wondered what might have come of their relationship had it not been for one Saturday about six months ago, in mid-November. Ramon Carlos, his brother-in-law's younger brother, was visiting Juan as he'd occasionally been doing since Juan had married Annette, and it happened that at the same time Jonah was visiting Anton. When a sudden storm had come up it, was decided it best the two boys spend the night on the estate. Although they had plenty of guest rooms, upon Cory's suggestion Mr. Gilles got some foam mattresses, pillows and sleeping bags from the porn studio for the two boys so they could have a sleep-over in Anton's room. Bringing them a large plate of freshly baked cookies and mugs of hot cocoa, Mrs. Gilles headed back down to join Annette with their babies for a while before retiring with Cory who knew nature would take its course in Anton's room without any assistance from him.

Anton, Jonah and Ramon talked about the usual things young boys talk about, their favourite video games, school and sports, all three being avid soccer fans. Eventually the conversation turned, as it does with healthy, curious young boys, to sharing their sexual knowledge, and as they began to get horny, to the secret of jacking off. Considering their extensive experiences and knowledge, Anton and Jonah were surprised by the even greater knowledge and experience of ten-year-old Ramon, three months away from his eleventh birthday. They compared their jacking off techniques and found each was quite different, Anton preferring his fist and grasping his entire cock, Jonah preferring to use just his thumb and first finger, and Ramon preferring what he called the butterfly technique, brushing his dick ever so lightly with the tips of his fingers, like a butterfly landing on it he said, the idea causing them all to giggle.

The boys of course had to try it, and sitting in a circle on Anton's bed they watched and copied Ramon as he fluttered his fingers, touching down on the shaft and head of his erect cocklet and on his hairless balls at random. Soon their erect cocklets were jerking with arousal and it was not long before all three butterflies were landing on each other's stiff mushroom and dancing along the sensitive rims of their turgid caps until all three boys were jerking on the bed uncontrollably with their orgasms. Anton being the only one capable of spurting, as he shot off into a hastily grabbed fist of Kleenex the two younger boys closely observed his feat.

As they recovered sitting there on Anton's bed munching on cookies and sipping their mugs refilled with hot, sweet cocoa, they talked about how great it was to orgasm, and how glad they were that they were boys and not girls. Anton observed that of all the sex acts he knew about, the ones he most enjoyed doing were oral, French kissing, rimming and sucking cock. Asking for a demonstration, Ramon felt himself quickly becoming aroused again as he sat there and watched Anton deep kissing eight-year-old Jonah, who between being watched and having Anton slipping his tongue in his mouth and kissing him also began to get stiff again. Anton eagerly demonstrated his skill next on the ten-year-old Puerto Rican, and then having the boy lay on his back and propping up his buttocks with the pillows his father had brought, he proceeded to rim his tight, puckered, bean-brown bung hole. He was skilled at what he was doing, and enjoyed it, worming his tongue into the younger boy's dank hole and pressing his lips against it and sucking on it like it was a honey pot. He soon had young Ramon squirming with his approaching orgasm. Slipping his lips over the boy's smooth, reddish-brown Puerto Rican sausage, he sucked gently on the throbbing, aching flesh as he slipped his smooth lips up and down the shaft and over the tiny bulb until Ramon was snorting and quivering with his orgasm. Anton was skilled, and he beamed down happily at the flushed, gasping boy.

Jonah, who had been fiddling with himself as he'd watched the two boys, was delighted when Anton raised his hips and began to rim him, quickly bringing him to his peak and similarly bringing him off by pushing back his tight, silky foreskin with his lips and sucking on his exposed, blood-engorged little plum. After they had recovered once again and with his mouth stuffed with one of Mrs. Gilles's chocolate fudge brownies, Jonah observed that his favourite way of bringing other guys off was by fisting, and he willingly demonstrated his skill upon Ramon's request, lubing up Anton's eager asshole and doing him first. Being hyper from his earlier oral sex and full of sugar from his mother's baking, Anton was soon spurting out a thin, early teen load for a second time that night. Beaming with satisfaction, the eight-year-old preacher's son turned to Ramon who just as eagerly and without the slightest apprehension, being a sex-craving little pervert like the other two, lay on his back with his buttocks raised on pillows and let Jonah grease up his rectum and then insert a finger, then two, three, and finally his entire fist up his shit hole. Never in a million years would the members of his father's congregation, especially the wives and mothers, have suspected the pretty blue-eyed cherub with the long, curly blond hair who sang in the church choir to engage in such a filthy perversion. The sweet, young preacher's boy smiled as he soon had the ten-year-old Puerto Rican clenching his eyes and his anal sphincter tight as he tensed and cried out with his dry orgasm.

By this time it was well after midnight, but the three young boys were not the least bit tired and Anton and Jonah pressed Ramon for his favourite sex act. The young Puerto Rican observed that he enjoyed all sex acts equally, but what he really enjoyed the most was the foreplay that proceeded sex. For the next hour and a half he engaging the other two in the hottest foreplay they had ever engaged in and that had all three on the verge of exploding half a dozen times but just as they were sure they were about to pop the skilful young boy would smile at them with that impish grin and with his dark brown eyes sparkling he would bring them back down. When Anton finally did pop off a load, it was the most violent and most copious Anton had ever shot in his life, his hot cum spurting into the air with such force he was surprised he hadn't hit the ceiling. Although they could not spurt, the dry orgasms of his two naked playmates were just as violent and just as pleasurable, their erect little nipples, gaping assholes, and prickling dick heads burning with arousal as a result of Ramon's extended foreplay.

Over the next three months, until shortly after he'd turned eleven, Ramon gradually replaced Jonah as Anton's mentor. The enterprising young Puerto Rican refined Anton's skills in bed, teaching him little techniques that enriched and enhanced those acts he was already familiar with, and introducing him to new acts that he'd never imagined possible. And whether they were engaged in French kissing or rimming, foot play or nipple play, or sixty-nining or fucking each other's heads off, Ramon taught him about gentleness and love, new aspects of being a good bottom boy. While the relationship between Jonah and Anton had been one of master and slave, the relationship between Anton and his brother-in-law's kid brother over those next three months would be best characterized by saying Ramon became Anton's lover.

Unlike many young boys kept in ignorance by misguided parents and conservative-minded adults brainwashed by church and society, Ramon, Anton and Jonah had been introduced to the mystery and wonder of sex at an early age. Ramon had been taught that sex was wonderful and to be engaged in fully, in all of its variations and as often as one wanted, a belief Anton and Jonah readily accepted. He had also been taught by his mother and grandmother that sex was even more wonderful when engaged in with someone you loved. That he had first been told as a baby as they'd fiddled with his little dickey while sucking his mother's teat for milk, and his grandmother's for pleasure, his and hers. It was also advice he'd gotten from his father and his uncle Rafael and his older brother Juan as he'd sucked their teats too, and as they had fingered his bum hole and teased it and his dickey with their tongues. As a toddler and now a young boy, he had been taught the finer techniques of how to please a woman and how a woman could please a man or boy by his mother and grandmother, while his father, uncle and brother had shown him the finer skills of how a boy could please another boy or a man.

Anton smiled as he recalled Ramon relating how while still in Kindergarten they'd all had him practice licking, mouthing and sucking an overripe peach until he could do so without breaking the skin in preparation for demonstrating his skill on his father's, uncle's and twenty-year-old brother's knobs in the presence of his mother and grandmother. The idea of having sex with his father in the presence of his mother was intriguing, and admittedly erotic, but considering the relationship between his parents and his relationship with them, that, Anton had figured, would never happen. Of course in his innocence he had not taken in account Ramon's intuitiveness, nor of Cory's persuasive powers once Ramon had told him of his suspicion.

Having the estate to themselves one Saturday afternoon early in January, they had gone down to the English Garden, a small rock garden in the far corner of the estate with two sides enclosed by a tall brick fence blocking the view of the estate from the neighbours, the third bordering a small mill pond with waterlilies and a miniature waterwheel, and the fourth being a hedgerow with a stone fence and stile cutting off the garden from the rest of the estate. Secluded and cozy and attracting a plethora of birds year round with the pond and trickling stream and thick hedge, it was one of Anton's favourite spots. As to be expected, he and Ramon were soon making love.

They were so engaged when Julius Gilles climbed over the stile and entered the garden. Having arrived home and finding everyone seemingly gone, he'd headed to his study to tackle the pile of paperwork the government required for his new school when he suddenly got the idea of first taking a relaxing stroll through the English Garden. What with the demands of running the Gilles Outstanding Outreach School for Exceptional Youth as he now affectionately called his school like his students, being at the beck and call of his two sons-in-law whenever they needed him to help out with their porno business, before the camera or behind the scenes, which usually meant sucking the cum from his daughter's cunt, and looking after the dog kennels and the show dogs he and Antoinette were raising, he seldom had time to just relax.

Having climbed over the stile before spotting the two boys, he quickly turned in the hopes of leaving before being noticed, but to his dismay Ramon saw him and called to him. He was tempted to keep walking and pretend not to have seen them nor heard Ramon, but that he had, had to be obvious. He slowly turned and walked over to where the two boys were sprawled out on the grass. Although he knew of his youngest son's sexual preference and had suspected that his son and Ramon Carlos were sexually involved given his son's lust and indiscriminate selection of partners and the base, animal sexuality of Puerto Ricans, it was still embarrassing to see him and Ramon in each other's arms, and though he'd seen his son erect many times now, it was embarrassing to see him and Ramon in a state of arousal.

"You come to enjoy the garden too?" Ramon asked, making no attempt to hide his erection, which Julius would have at least expected despite the nudism practised on the estate.

"I had," he said abruptly thinking that perhaps since he had interrupted the boys he could put a damper on their desires, though it would be easy enough for them to just move on to dozens of other secluded places and start over.

"It's nice and peaceful here," Ramon observed. "It's a great place to sit and think, or to jerk one off, or to make love," he added with an impish grin.

"I'll leave you two boys alone," Julius said awkwardly, fighting back the urge to reprimand the boy for his language or his thoughts as he would normally have a year ago. They were both still erect and evidently not about to leave.

"Come join us," Ramon offered, to Julius's surprise and contempt for his vulgarity and familiarity and to Anton's surprise and dismay. "We was just trying out a new jerking technique we read on jackinworld on the Internet." Julius's immediate reaction was to decline. Anton was thirteen and Ramon only ten and he was forty-six, and besides, Anton was his son. Although he'd had sex with his son on numerous occasions before, it had always been unwillingly and both had been humiliated and disgusted by what they'd been forced to do. As for Ramon, not only was he still a child, but he wasn't even an American, and not only that, he wasn't even white. Disgusted with his son's sexual preference, and with his total lack of any decency having sex with a filthy berry picker, he wasn't about to compound things by having sex with them. "Did they have jackinworld on the Internet when you was a kid?"

"They didn't have Internet when I was a kid," Julius responded. He had little tolerance for ignorance, and the statement the little berry picker had just made was ignorant, displaying a total lack of awareness of the history of technology.

"Yeah? Bummer. Guess that's how come adults are always so uptight about sex, huh?"

Julius wanted to say that was why youngsters today were so insolent and promiscuous and ten months ago he would have said so, but a lot had happened in the ten months since he'd been given his Mohawk haircut and had gotten fired. He still had his lapses and prejudices, but he was beginning to see why young people were the way they were today and was learning how to interact with them. This was perhaps an opportunity for a learning experience for the two young boys. Gritting his teeth, he slowly walked over to them and Ramon moved aside to let him sit between them. "Not all adults are uptight about sex," he began, sitting closer to his son and keeping his distance from the Puerto Rican. Why did they all smell of hot peppers and wild meat?

"Yeah, I know you're not," Ramon said, looking up at Julius with that innocent, trusting look of his that softened even Julius. "Anyone who walks around bare balls and whose wife is knocked up by a fourteen-year-old lover has to be cool. Julius's blood pressure began to rise with the backhanded complement even if Ramon had meant it as a positive comment. "You got huge balls," Ramon continued, moving over so his naked body was pressed against Julius's and slipping his slender fingers about Julius's sack and cupping his nuts. Julius stared down at the young, dark brown fingers wrapped about his testicles and began to cringe. "Why don't you show your dad what you've learned about foreplay?" he asked, glancing over at Anton who was sitting there wide-eyed and slack jawed.

He had learned a lot from Ramon, and though it was a perverse accomplishment to brag about, he knew it would impress his dad given his dad's sexual proclivities, and he did want to impress him. Turning to his father and pushing him back on the grassy bank they were sitting on, he began caressing his fat, flabby chest, running his fingers gently over his skin and fluttering them about his nipples, much like the butterfly technique Ramon had taught him to get up his cock. He ran his fingers though his father's thick chest hair, delighting in twining the dark hair in his fingers, and he bent over and caressed his nipples with his ruby, satin-smooth lips. As his nipples began to grow hard, Anton flicked them with the tip of his tongue, and then fastened his lips about one and sucked on it as baby would suck his mother's teat, all the while Ramon gently rolling his father's eggs in his loose sack.

Anton continued down, kissing his father's flabby breasts and his fat, hairy stomach, and he gently mouthed his father's glans, just as Ramon had taught him with the ripe peach, and he was rewarded by the gradual swelling of his father's cock. Slipping his fingers about the base of the turgid tube and holding it up, he brushed his lips over the sensitive pee-hole and swirled his tongue over the exposed glans, being careful to avoid the sensitive rim but coming tantalizing close to the tender edge. He had learned his techniques well from a gentle lover, and it was not long before he had his father fully erect. The eroticism of doing his own father had his own early teen cocklet jerking wildly with excitement. He did not stop there and continued to arouse his father, mouthing the shaft of his now stiff cock and licking it from base to tip, giving his sensitive inner thighs the butterfly touch with his fingertips, and then further arousing him by brushing his lips over the tender skin of his inner thighs.

Instead of going down on his father's now aching cock as he'd normally have done in the past with his Johns, Anton instead raised his father's hips so that they were lifted off the grass and his widespread legs were raised in the air. Supporting him in that position by cupping his flabby buttocks and holding him up while Ramon slipped his slender legs under his back and fat ass, Anton bent his head and gently kissed and caressed his father's asshole with his satiny lips. He worked ever so slowly and lightly knowing the more gently he touched his father there the more erotic it was. Stretching open his father's anus, he ran the tip of his tongue around the anal ring and then slowly inserted it in his father's dank hole, delighting in the taste and aroma of his father's shit chute. He took his time and from his father's laboured breathing he knew he'd gotten him fully aroused and aching to get off. In the meantime Ramon had slipped around behind Anton and had been similarly rimming him, and now working up a mouthful of spittle, the ten-year-old pressed his lips against Anton's anus and blew his spittle up his chute.

Lowering his father's hips back down to the grass, Anton prepared to straddle him when he noticed out of the corner of his eye his mother standing by the stile watching the three of them, a smile on her face. Having arrived home and finding nobody around, she'd suddenly had the idea of going to the English Garden to pick some fresh flowers. Finding her husband, son, and the younger brother of her son-in-law engaged in sex, she'd been about to turn and slip away unnoticed when for some reason she decided to pause and watch despite how disgusting it was. Knowing of her husband's perverse habits and of her youngest boy's sexual orientation, she had not been overly surprised finding them and Ramon having sex. The idea of sex between members of the same gender had been offensive, and even more nauseating was the idea of sex between a father and his son, but as she stood there and watched, she could see and sense the love with which her son was licking and sucking on her husband's asshole, and her husbands arousal was evident from the wagging of his stiff cock. Knowing herself the sexual energy and charm of a fourteen-year-old lover, she was not overly surprised by that, and seeing the love between father and son, something she'd thought nonexistent regarding Julius and Anton, was gratifying.

Feeling a new surge of arousal, Anton eagerly straddled his father's fat belly and reaching behind he grasped his father's stiff, aching pole and holding it up, he slowly lowered his body. His father's knob slowly stretched open his anus until it popped inside the spit-lubed rectum, and he slowly lowered himself on his father's pole, impaling himself up to his father's nuts. He sighed with the pleasure of having his rectum stuffed with a hard, thick, hot cock, and his father sighed with the pleasure of having his aching cock surrounded by hot, moist, pulsating flesh. The perversity of it being the rectum of his youngest son made it all the hotter and he quivered with delight as his boy began to ride him. The boy had learned a lot since they'd last had sex together, but the fact that the two of them were engaged in sex with each other willingly made the biggest difference of all. As the warmth of sexual pleasure spread through his loins, so did the feeling of love between him and his son.

Anton had learned how to prolong that act too, not just foreplay, and he rode his father slowly, bringing him to the peak of ejaculation several times and pausing for the two of them to enjoy the ecstasy of that moment and to cool down before resuming. He occasionally snuck a furtive glance over at the stile and was rewarded by the smile of love by his mother as she stood there stoking her swollen belly with one hand, swollen with another child from her teenage lover he knew, and stroking her hot, swollen, cunt-juice dripping pussy with the other. Feeling her love and warmth, Anton arched his back and rode his father with passion to their final peaks, his father heaving his hips forward and raising his son in the air like a bucking bronc as he shot his hot, thick gism up his son's hot rectum, and Anton tensing as he shot also, his thin, watery, early teen cum spurting up in the air and landing in hot, sticky streamers on his father's hairy, fat breasts. From the sidelines with his stiff cock in his right hand, Ramon smiled at the skill and pleasure of his pupil as he also shot off a load, and unbeknownst to all of them, hidden in the hedge and watching as he jerked one off, Cory Wilson shot off a load also. It was beautiful when a plan came together.

Anton reached down and squeezed his stiff cock with the memory of that afternoon, the first of many between him and his dad. The unique pleasure of having sex with someone you love had been evident that day, and was evident all around him, the way his mother looked at Cory in the morning, their bodies smelling of sex and of each other, the way Antoinette looked at her two husbands and the way they looked at her when the three headed off for an afternoon nookie, and these last two months, the way Julian's eyes lit up and the smile on his face when he headed out to meet his boyfriend, John Halder. Sex with those he cared for, his father, his kid brother François, Jonah and Ramon, and his current lover, could not compare with sex with those classmates who had taken advantage of his desire for cock and who just used him to get their rocks off, or with the sex with strangers he'd picked up on the street or in the park.

If it had it not been for Jonah and Ramon, he might never have realized that and he could have easily continued down his path of sex with strangers considering the delight he got from pleasing others, and his desire for cock. In fact his delight in being a dedicated bottom boy made him a prime candidate for the second whore house his sister's mother-in-law had set up and that was being run by her brother Eli and his wife and that catered to men who liked underage girls and boys, and to underage boys seeking sex who would normally be turned away and told to go home to their mothers by the operators of other cat houses. He had actually been seriously considering accepting Eli's offer of employment once his place was up and running the Sunday he'd come upon Jonah and his family in the park, and he knew if he had he would have become one of Eli's most popular employees.

Eli's Place started up in the fall and news of its opening had spread faster than news about the latest girl to put out or the latest guy outed as a fag amongst the highly horny and homophobic junior high boys at the Royal Glencoe Academy for Boys, Lincoln Junior High School, and other junior highs and high schools in Riverside. Among those rgab students to avail themselves of the new service for teenage boys had been the soccer players Big Theo, sixteen-year-old Kenny Young, and downy-cheeked, dreamy-eyed aspiring sixteen-year-old model Byron Baynham, unaware that his first sex with a woman, which he found superior to Julian Gilles's fake cunt and his kid brother Francois's asshole, was being recorded on a hidden cam and that he was about to embark on a modelling career not quite what he and his Silicon Valley mother intended.

After hearing the bragging and the rumours by the older students at rgab, Eddie Fairchild, now fourteen and heading into grade nine in the fall, still a virgin having never made out with Sarah Thompson though he'd let on otherwise, and totally frustrated sexually and mentally after striking out at the rgab Easter dance, decided Eli's Place was the solution to ending his long-suffering chastity. He was even hornier than he'd been a year and three months ago when he'd tricked Anton into going to the boy's washroom at the Royal Glencoe Academy for Boys and he and a gang of other bullies had forced him to give all of them blowjobs. Just as much a braggart as he'd been then, he had a reputation as a girl's man to uphold, besides a need to distance himself from the day he and the others had assaulted Anton which had resulted in some rumours that he was gay, or at least bi that still occasionally circulated among the students as if there was someone purposefully bringing it back up. Considering the number of students he had bullied over the years, he had no shortage of suspects, not knowing the real culprit wasn't even a member of rgab.

So, following his strike out at the Easter dance last month, the horny fourteen-year-old soccer star had summoned up his courage and nervously walked up the sidewalk and rung the doorbell of the unimposing house in Baldwin Park. The lower class district on the other side of Sixteenth Street was frequented by gangs, whores and drug dealers and just being in the district was frightening enough for the well-bred student from Falconridge and he had every expectation of being mugged or murdered or both. He'd also expected to be turned away at the door despite the stories he'd heard from high school students attending rgab, and was pleasantly surprised upon being admitted.

To the naive junior high student's surprise, the inside of the whore house looked just like the inside of any other house. Being told all the girls were busy and that he'd have to wait, Emma Dean lead him to the waiting room, which to Eddie looked just like any other grandmother's living room with the overstuffed sofa and sofa chairs and the end tables with nicknacks and embroidered doilies. He was relieved to sit down, his legs feeling weak and wobbly and his heart racing like he'd just run the length of the soccer field. This being his first time with a girl, the handsome teenage athlete had thought about nothing else all week as he'd built up his courage to actually do it, and he had held off jerking off to produce an especially big wad to impress the woman. Sitting there in the waiting room with several others, mostly skanky old men who eyed him like he was a piece of meat himself, he felt particularly self-conscious and he wiped his sweaty palms on his new jeans repeatedly, much to the delight of Eli and Emma who monitored everything that went on throughout the house with hidden cams. It had been their sense of humour and brand of revenge against what was evidently a spoiled, rich, white kid that had caused Emma to lie and make him wait, and to take him to the waiting room for guys who were waiting to get it on with young boys. She and Eli exchanged grins as they watched the youngster wiping his sweaty palms on his trousers for the twelfth time, knowing exactly how he was feeling, and what the other men in the room were thinking of the junior high hunk they presumed was waiting for a young boy.

Deciding he'd suffered enough, Emma came down to get him and taking his fifty dollars, the price they charged their under-fifteen customers not wanting to discourage them from using their services, she told him his 'date' was in room eight upstairs. His legs feeling so wobbly he could barely make it up the stairs, he stood before the door, and swallowing nervously, he had no idea if he was to knock or to just walk in. He finally decided to clear his throat loudly and bump against the door as he turned the knob. Inside, sitting on the bed in a skimpy blouse with her tits practically hanging out and a skirt that barely covered her twat was a thirty-something whore with heavy mascara who would never have had a chance at a regular whore house catering to less desperate customers than horny teenage boys. Although he was disappointed she was older than he'd hoped, and didn't look like a Playboy centerfold, the huge bosomed, heavily painted whore was still everything he'd expected. As he stared at her large, if somewhat sagging, boobs and her creamy-white though somewhat fat thighs, he felt his dick twitch and pre-cum ooze out the tip to soak into his boxers.

"Well, come over here, honey, you're not paying to just look," she said, weary of the stead stream of horny, inexperienced boys.

She removed her blouse and pushed down her skirt, revealing she was wearing neither a bra nor panties. Eddie nervously struggled with his zipper, and practically fell over as he awkwardly stepped out of his jeans and his boxers, hopping on one leg and then the other. He was suddenly all thumbs as he unbuttoned his shirt. Lying down on the bed and motioning for him to join her, she took charge as she often had to with the new ones, kissing him and guiding his hands over her breasts and between her legs not because it was part of the service but because she had to be at least a little aroused to accept him. One redeeming factor she was quick to notice was that Eddie was exceptionally well hung, the fourteen-year-old boy sporting a thick seven-inch [18 cm] long weapon. At least that was going to feel good. She reached over for it with a smile and wrapped her fingers about the boy's horse cock.

"Oh fuck!" Eddie gasped. "Shit!" he groaned in dismay. Supercharged from thinking about it all week and abstaining from his daily wanking routine, combined with the anticipation of sinking his dick up his first cunt and with having a woman finally actually holding his dick, he puddled, spraying the woman's belly with a week's supply of teenage cum.

"Oh Christ," the woman groaned in disappointment and in disgust as she yanked her hand away, her fingers dripping with the boy's slimy load, his horse cock already going limp. Grabbing a handful of Kleenex, she wiped the sticky gunk from her hand and soaked up the puddles of creamy cum on her stomach as Eddie sat up embarrassed and mortified by what had happened. His dick was totally limp and a streamer of cum dangled from the tip. He had no idea what to say or do as he sat there watching the woman wiping his load off her body. At least he had managed to impress her with the size of his wad. "Well, you might as well get dressed," she said, thinly hiding her displeasure. Too embarrassed and surprised to suggest if they wait a few minutes that he could get it up again, and afraid that it might happen again if he did get another boner, and wondering if he'd have to pay another fifty bucks which he didn't have, Eddie got to his feet. His long, limp cock swung with the suddenness of his movement and the streamer of cum broke off and striking his calf, ran down it. It felt cold and wet. Too embarrassed to wipe it off and hoping she hadn't noticed, he fumbled with his clothes, wondering how they could have possibly gotten so tangled.

"Ah, well, ah," he stumbled. Did you thank a whore or what? They hadn't actually screwed.

"Don't worry about it honey. It happens to a lot of men. And most aren't even half as hung as you are. Next time."

"Ah, yeah, next time."

Cuming prematurely had been Eddie's first surprise. The second was to be met by a big, ugly black man with the body of a wrestler and face of an ape who met him as he headed for the stairs and to be taken into another room where he discovered that everything had been caught on film, from the moment he'd stepped into the room to the awkward conversation as he'd left, with closeups of him puddling all over the woman's belly and the look of horror and shock on his face and the look of disgust on hers.

"Quite a performance," Eli observed with a chuckle. Eddie stared at the pattern of the carpet on the floor, his cheeks burning. "I bet you momma would get a real charge out of seeing dis clip, or perhaps yo buddies at school." Eddie looked up at him in horror and shock. He wouldn't. He couldn't!

"I, I'm sorry, I don't know what happened," he sputtered, figuring the man was angry. "That's never happened before, never. Honest."

"Hey, dat's all right boy. I know sum sites on da Internet dat will pay well for a film like dis."

"The Internet! No, you can't!" Eddie replied, panic stricken. "I mean, please, no. I'll do anything you want if you don't. I'll 3; I'll buy it. My dad has money."

"I don't need the money boy," Eli replied, pausing to let the boy squirm. "But you say you'll do anyt'ing?"

"Yes, anything!" Eddie replied anxiously.

"Well," Eli said as he pretended to think it over. "I could make good money off a clip like dis easy. Can yo git yo hands on say, a hun'rit t'ousand dollars for dis film?" Eddie looked at him in dismay. He'd had no idea porn sold for that much! There was no way he could get anywhere near that sort of money, and Eli knew it. He dejectedly shook his head. "Suppose you work it off instead?"

"Work? Yeah, sure, no problem," Eddie said in relief. "I can do that!" He could still be working it off after graduating from high school, but at least nobody would see the film.

"Den you can start next Friday night. Wear yo soccer uniform."

"My soccer uniform? Ah, yeah, sure. Next Friday night."

Eddie thought that Saturday was the worst day of his life, though he had been buoyed up by the fact the whore had called him a man and had said what had happened to him happened a lot, and she had said he was better hung than most men. Next time would be different. The following Friday he discovered he was wrong about Saturday being the worst day of his life, very wrong. That Friday was. He'd had no idea what sort of work Eli had in mind for him, but the naive fourteen-year-old junior high student certainly had not expected what Eli told him he was expected to do. Nor had he expected for an hour of 'work' he'd earn two hundred and fifty dollars! As he showered for the third time that Sunday and applied another generous glob of salve on his raw, abused asshole, he at least had the comfort of knowing that at two hundred and fifty dollars a time he only had to do it another four hundred times, and at twice a weekend, that was only two hundred weekends, or four years, and if he did it four times a weekend this nightmare he'd found himself in could be over in just two years.

Eli of course was charging eight times that amount. Having only recently turned fourteen, the handsome, athletic heterosexual teenager had an exceptionally well endowed cock of seven inches [18 cm] and was just the type of arrogant, rich jock that men loved to fuck, especially in his soccer uniform. Added to that the fact he was a virgin, with women and men, there were a lot of customers who were willing to pay what Eli was asking. Eddie was instantly popular, and though Eli had started him off with just one customer Friday and one Saturday, he'd soon have the boy doing far more than double or quadruple that frequency. Of course eventually he'd have to lower the price he was charging as the boy became used, but there was no need to discourage the boy by telling him that now.

Eddie had no idea for how long he was going to be able to fool his parents that he was having Friday and Saturday night sleep overs with his friends, nor how long his friends would back up his lie if his parents did check on him, having told his friends that he was really taking Sarah Thompson to the Economy Inn for a weekend of fucking, but he figured given his parents' general lack of concern what he was doing as long as he was doing well at school and on the soccer field, he wouldn't have to worry about that. His biggest concern was keeping his new secret life secret, and not catching some disease, though Eli assured him all his customers were high class and clean.

Just how high class Eddie discovered just last week, his third weekend on the job. As usual he'd arrived with his soccer uniform in his soccer bag and had changed up in 'his' room, a room that had been made up to look like a typical teenager's room. He'd set out on the desk a few of his personal belongings he'd brought with him as Eli had instructed, his desk set with his name engraved on it, a present from his grandparents for his high marks at the end of grade seven, a soccer ball, his Nintendo and favourite game, a picture of him posing on the soccer field, and, Eli insisted, a picture of him with his parents, and he had then sat on the bed waiting and fretting and wondering what sort of man his next customer would be. The door opened and he looked up expectantly, his eyes suddenly widening with surprise. His customer was equally surprised.

"Eddie?"

"Mister Thompson."

The two stared at each other awkwardly. Eddie had been worried about his buddies finding out about his perverted, disgusting new job, but never in his wildest dreams had he expected one of the adults he knew to find out, and he certainly had not expected one of them to be a customer at Eli's Place.

"Well," Earl Thompson finally said, clearing his throat, "this is a surprise."

"Yes sir," Eddie agreed.

A smile slowly curled Earl Thompson's lips. "Actually, it's comforting in a way to discover that my fears that the boy who has been seeing my daughter has been trying to get into her panties have been needless and that your dating her has been just a cover to hide the fact you like men."

Eddie flushed with embarrassment. Of course that was not it at all, but what could he say, that he really did want to jump his daughter, and that he was just working off the payment for a film of an embarrassing moment with a whore, and that he actually despised and was revolted by men who liked to get it on with young boys?

Earl Thompson walked over to the bed and sitting on it, he placed a hand under Eddie's chin and raised and turned Eddie's head to face him. "Tell me honestly, have you ever kissed my daughter?"

"Yes sir."

The man bent over and kissed him softly on the lips. Eddie returned the kiss as he'd been instructed to do. They kissed several more times and the older man slipped his tongue in the boy's mouth and ran it over his tongue. Eddie fought back the urge to gag and was relieved when Earl withdrew his tongue and their lips parted. "Was it as good with her as it is with me?"

"No sir," Eddie lied. He was not stupid.

Earl Thompson smiled. "She ever French kiss you like I just did?"

"No sir," Eddie said truthfully. He hadn't even heard of such a thing until now.

He trembled nervously as Earl Thompson pulled his soccer jersey out of his shorts and drew it off over his head. The man gently caressed his chest, solid and muscular from regular soccer practice, but smooth and still rounded, the boy having only recently turned fourteen. He ran his fingers over the boy's nipples and played with them until they became firm, which considering the sensitivity of a teenage boy's nipples did not take long. "She ever do that to you?"

"No," Eddie gulped.

"She let you play with her breasts?"

"Yes, a little," Eddie qualified. God, was this humiliating! Eddie thought about those nights he'd snuggled up with Sarah on the sofa watching TV or videos while her parents were out, unbuttoning her blouse or pushing up her sweater and caressing and squeezing her tits, Sarah proud of her boobs and normally not wearing a bra to better display them. His dick began to swell with the memory.

"Enjoying this?" Earl asked, noticing the movement in the boy's soccer shorts, something difficult not to notice given the boy's endowment.

Eddie nodded. As absurd and as perverted as it was, it was better to have Earl Thompson think his arousal was because of what he was doing than admit it was because of thoughts of playing with his daughter's tits. Having the boy stand, Earl pushed down his soccer shorts, and then his boxers. He whistled appreciatively at the size of the boy's flaccid organ. "Just how far have you and my daughter gone?"

"Just kissing, and playing with her 3; breasts, and petting. Above our clothes," Eddie quickly added, admitting all in his nervousness, his cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"So she's never seen yours, nor you hers."

Eddie shook his head. This was so totally embarrassing. Earl stood and removed his suit jacket and tie, and then his shirt, shoes and trousers. In all the times he'd seen him, Eddie had never seen him wearing anything other than his dark blue suit, and always the same tie. That he'd even worn it to a whore house had not surprised him. Removing his socks, he pushed down and stepped out of his boxers. He did it much more smoothly than Eddie had four weeks ago in front of the whore. Now he was the whore. Eddie could not help looking up at the man's cock. He was cut, and it was longer than any of his previous customers. It felt so weird sitting there in just his soccer socks with the father of his girlfriend standing there stark naked in front of him.

"I understand you are quite the marksman when it comes to spitting." Eddie looked up at him in surprise. His accuracy was well known among his male classmates, and that his female classmates, including Sarah, would have heard was not a big surprise, but that she'd tell her father was. Yet, how else could he have possibly known? Unless perhaps he'd overheard a conversation between Sarah and one of her girlfriends talking about him. He of course was wrong in his assumptions how Earl Thompson knew about his spitting skill, unaware that his employer made a point of knowing everything about his employees, and that the teenage lover of his nephew's mother-in-law was a particularly good source of information.

"Lube this up with your spit," Earl instructed, stepping several paces back and holding up his semi-erect cock. "And each time you miss, you get a gob from me in return." Besides loving to fuck horny young teenage boys, Earl Thompson, one of Riverside's most successful and prominent lawyers despite being only forty-two, loved making them get him erect, and especially loved demonstrating his own spitting skill going all the way back to when he was a horny junior high student, which was why he'd taken several steps back, expecting and hoping the boy would miss.

Working up a mouthful of spittle, Eddie let fly, striking the man's upraised cockhead with a thick, slimy goober that oozed down over his slopehead and down his shaft to his fingers. Eddie was good and struck his target over and over, which of course became easier and easier as the man's cock swelled out. He did miss occasionally, a gob landing in the man's public hairs, or striking his large, pendant balls instead. He discovered Earl Thompson was just as good a marksman as he was, the man choosing his gaping mouth as his target, with the instructions he was not to swallow the goober and was to use it for his next spit toss. Soon both were fully erect, Earl Thompson from the hot, slimy spit now totally coating his cock and the eroticism of having a handsome, athletic fourteen-year-old boy, and even more erotic, his fourteen-year-old daughter's boyfriend, spitting on his cock and getting him erect, and from him spitting in the boy's mouth, and Eddie Fairchild for the same reasons besides the simple fact that he was fourteen.

Having the boy lay on his back on the bed with his buttocks raised on his pillows and his legs raised and outspread, Earl Thompson knelt before him and grasping his legs, wedged his spit-slick cockhead against his quivering butthole. Although of a generous size himself, his cock just a fraction longer and thicker than Eddie's, he penetrated the boy with comparative ease, given the slimy lube and his past experiences fucking tight teenage boys, and Eddie's limited past experience in getting his ass fucked and his desire to avoid as much pain as he could.

As the man's cock penetrated him, Eddie quivered with the still new and weird feeling of having a hot, hard cock easing up his rectum, and with the even weirder feelings he was having. It was stimulating physically, but it was a fag act and disgusting, and that he was finding it enjoyable it was disturbing. It was filthy and obscene and totally disgusting, and doing it with men twice or three times or more his age was sick and repugnant. This time, doing it with his girlfriend's father made it all the weirder. Glancing over at the desk out of the corner of his eye, he thought guiltily what his grandparents and his parents would think if they knew what he was doing, and if they knew what sort of guy he was finding getting fucked up the ass by a man his father's age arousing.

Earl Thompson of course was feeling no guilt nor shame. Fucking the ass of a horny, teenage boy was always hot, and certainly hotter than sex with his social-climbing wife who had sex with him only because it was her wifely duty. When that boy was a muscular, good-looking jock, and the son of one of Riverside's wealthy and prominent citizens, it was even hotter, and when he was his daughter's horny little stud muffin, it was as hot as it could possibly be. The thousand dollars he'd paid Eli Dean for this night was a pittance and well worth the cost, and he would be sure to specifically ask for this horny little pervert again. With those thoughts, Earl Thompson began to ram his aching, stiff cock in and out of the little pervert's hot, moist hole, delighting in the tightness of the little fucker, in his freshness and innocence and horny teenage sexuality, and in the horny teenager's own obvious delight in getting fucked as evidenced by his stiff cock jutting out between his legs.

To Eddie's dismay, he was turned on by having a man ramming his thick cock in and out of his asshole. The burning of his stretched asshole and the throbbing of his stiff cock felt good, very good, though at the same time he felt filthy and perverted engaging in the dirty, faggot act. As he lay there on his back, he dreaded the moment the man would fill his bumhole with his filthy slime, knowing no matter how many times he showered afterward he'd still felt filthy and the guy's stuff would still be oozing deep up his rectum, yet at the same time he knew the undescribable pleasure the man would feel when he shot off a load, and the pleasure that pleasure would bring him. Tonight it being his girlfriend's father who would be shooting off a load up his ass made it all the more erotic, and all the more perverted and disgusting.

Eli of course was ecstatic. Being a lover of boys himself, he delighted in watching a boy getting royally fucked, especially a spoiled, rich white boy like Eddie Fairchild, and he looked forward to the time when he'd avail himself of his young employee himself and show the boy what it was like to get fucked by a real man. The discovery that young Eddie Fairchild and Earl Thompson knew each other made this particular fuck even more erotic, and opened up another whole world of possibilities for the two. Although he valued his customers and could empathize with his boylovers, Eli Dean was not beyond making an extra buck at their expense. He made a video of every one of his customers' visits and sold them with discriminate editing to select customers. This one he would not. This one he would keep for his own personal enjoyment, and the enjoyment of a few close friends and relatives.

Even better, this video he could use to have young Eddie blackmail the father of his girlfriend. Earl Thompson was one of the most successful and influential lawyers in Riverside, in perhaps California. He would pay big bucks to keep his perversion a secret, a perversion Eli was not about to betray being a boylover himself and it being bad for business besides, but Eddie could. Better yet, instead of money, he could have the boy blackmail Thompson for something else, like performing in a few special videos for his nephew. A successful lawyer like Thompson would likely do anything they asked to keep his perversion a secret, and his nephew and fourteen-year-old partner had particularly filthy minds. Eli chuckled. He loved it when he could stick it to the man, especially when the man was a whitie.

Eddie Fairchild was not the only rgab student making big bucks for Eli Dean that night. Having promised Eddie he'd knock a thousand dollars off the money he owned him if he'd recruit a fellow classmate, he'd specifically asked for one boy in particular, a boy who'd been brought to his attention and whose picture he'd been shown by his nephew's perverted fourteen-year-old accomplice upon discovering Eddie had been added to his stable of boy whores. For a thousand dollars Eddie would have recruited his own grandmother. Tricking Alistair Simms into visiting the whore house, telling him that they paid good-looking boys like him to have sex as Eli had suggested, which unbeknown to him was actually Cory Wilson's suggestion, was so easy he almost felt guilty doing it and accepting the thousand-dollar credit toward his debt, but then Alistair Simms was a whiny wimp who simply had the good fortune of having a pretty face that girls went all googly-eyed over. He deserved getting knocked down a peg or two, and he wasn't all that lily white. It had been Alistair who had willingly helped trick Anton Gilles into meeting him in the boy's washroom by acting as bait so Eddie and the others could have the smug little faggot blow them last year.

So Alistair had told his parents he was having a sleep over with Eddie, which was true in a way though they would not be in the same room nor at Eddie's house, and had instead accompanied him to Baldwin Park. Alistair had never particularly liked Eddie considering he was a braggart and a bully, but he had been impressed with the way Eddie had confidently strutted down the littered, graffiti-marked streets oblivious to the hoods slouching up against the buildings and lurking in the dark of the alleys, not knowing of course that Eddie had been assured protection from Eli. To the sheltered fourteen-year-old that had been frightening, but he found being left alone to meet the co-owner of Eli's Place even more frightening. He chewed his cherry gum furiously like a cow chewing its cud as he listened to Eli, too overwhelmed to really understand what he was saying. The legal document Eli handed him to sign he really didn't understand either, but Eli confirmed the important part, that what Eddie had said was true, he would be paid each time he had sex, and for starters he'd get two hundred and fifty dollars for each time. Having a lavish home in Falconridge and accustomed to spending holidays at rich resorts in the Carribean and Mexico with his parents and all the money he wanted just by asking, it was not the money that was important about his new job, though even to a spoiled rich kid like Alistair two hundred and fifty dollars was a nice sum of cash, especially for doing what he thought he was going to be doing. That it was whore's wages didn't really dawn on him, and of course he hadn't a clue that he wasn't being paid to have sex with women but with men who loved getting it on with reluctant sweet-faced cherry-lipped boys with beautiful hazel eyes and long, luxuriant hazel locks who had only recently turned fourteen and had fourteen-year-old hormones and cocks but the looks of a nine-year-old.

Short and slender and baby-faced, Alistair did look more like he was about to enter grade four than grade nine and Eli knew with his childish good looks the young rgab student was going to be especially popular. As soon as he'd seen his picture, Eli had known he would be reserved for the highest paying, and most respectable, customers at Eli's Place, and in the beginning he would be allotted only one customer on the nights he worked to maintain his appeal, and the cost for his services.

So, after signing the contract, he'd been shown 'his' room, one that to his surprise looked more like a bedroom of nine-year-old, but then what did he know about whore houses? Twenty minutes later the door opened and Alistair Simms met his first customer.

"Oh yeah," the man said, his dark brown eyes a glimmer. Ishaq Khan, the son of a peasant farmer in the Indus Valley of Pakistan, had immigrated to the United States as a young man, and through hard work and wise decisions now at the age of fifty-one was the owner of several upscale restaurants including Riverside's Rawalpindi Palace featuring dishes from Pakistan and Kashmir. "Now you are once choice chicken!"

To Alistair, chicken meant he was scared, and he was, but that was no reason for the man, a total stranger, to insult him. He looked at the man in confusion as he closed the door and sat down on his bed beside him.

"Eli tells me this is your first night, that true?" Alistair nodded. Maybe this guy was a bouncer or something. He looked tough enough and mean enough, especially with his jet black short-cropped beard. The man suddenly grabbed him by the jaw, and squeezing tight at the corners of his mouth so he popped his jaw open he snarled, "you tell me the truth boy, or I'll cut your little knockers off."

"Igh ihs," Alistair replied as pain shot through his jaw and he swallowed his gum.

"He tells me you are a virgin. That true?"

"Yes."

"You've never had sex with a woman?"

"No," Alistair admitted. The man had evidently been sent to double check what he'd told Eli to be sure he'd told the truth.

"Nor with a man."

"No."

"But what?" Ishaq asked, noticing the flicker in the boy's beautiful eyes.

"Well, I have, sortta, with a boy, once." Alistair sensed this was not a man you told lies to.

"What did you do?"

"He 3; gave me a blow job."

"And what did you do for him?"

"Nothing."

"How old was this boy?"

"Twelve."

"And that was all?"

"Yes."

"Well, my pretty, tonight is your lucky night," the man said with a leer as he reached over and unbuttoned the top button of Alistair's shirt.

"There 3; there has to be some mistake," Alistair said in panic as he tried to draw away but the man had placed his other arm behind him. He had dealt with nervous young virgins before.

"Yes, but the mistake was yours," Ishaq said with a grin, Eli having told him how the boy had come to be in his employ. "You should have read that contract more closely." He unbuttoned another button and as Alistair began to stand to the boy's dismay he suddenly tore open the expensive silk Armani shirt Alistair had selected for his first time with a woman, sending the buttons flying across the room. The boy had delightfully smooth, milk-white tits, the tits of a young child. He grasped them and squeezed them, and roughly brushed his fingers over the boy's nipples, sending pangs of irritation through the sensitive nubs. He bent his head and nibbled on them, purposefully grazing them with his teeth. Alistair tensed with the pain, and with the arousal that shot through his tender nipples with a direct line of arousal straight up his cock. Knowing exactly how young boys reacted to such treatment, Ishaq cupped the boy's crotch as he attacked his other nipple and was rewarded with the throbbing and immediate swelling of the flesh beneath his hand.

"So, you like it rough, do you?" Ishaq said with a leer. "Well, that is good, because Ishaq likes it rough too." Grabbing the long, fine curls at the back of Alistair's head, he pulled his head back and kissed him forcefully, slipping his tongue into the squirming boy's mouth and pressing his lips against his. They were so moist and soft and to Ishaq's surprise and delight tasted of cherry.

"Please, this isn't what I thought," Alistair gasped when Ishaq finally withdrew his mouth.

"I know," Ishaq said with an evil grin, "but it is what you're going to get so you'd better just cooperate." He felt his cock twitch as he stared into the boy's beautiful gold-flecked hazel eyes framed by the longest, most beautiful eyelashes he'd ever seen, on a boy or a girl. He delighted in the fear in those eyes, and then the look of dismay, apprehension, and shame as he fondled the boy's crotch, his tiny growing dick so hot he could feel the heat through the boy's underwear and shorts.

"Please, I don't want to do this," Alistair protested as he struggled to get loose as Ishaq undid his belt and pulled down his fly.

"I know, which is going to make this all the hotter," Ishaq said as he slipped his hand inside the boy's white briefs, delighting in the flatness and smoothness of his stomach and softness and sparsity of his hairs, and the slenderness and silkiness of his early teen cocklet.

"No, no," Alistair protested in dismay, whether dismayed about having his private, precious little cocklet fondled by a man, or dismayed by its reaction as it dutifully began to swell Ishaq did not know.

Roughly yanking down his underwear, in park in eagerness and in part to silence the whining spoilt little brat, Ishaq tugged on his swelling flesh vigorously, causing the horny teenage boy's still hairless balls to bounce. Despite his fear and his abhorrence, Alistair found himself growing erect, and despite his embarrassment and shame, he was soon sporting a boner, four and a half inches [11½ cm], which he knew was not great when it came to sizes but which he was nonetheless proud of and was good enough for his purposes. Releasing the boy, Ishaq stood and undid his belt and pulled down his fly. Seeing his opportunity, Alistair quickly reached down and began to pull up his shorts and began to get to his feet. Having his fingers slapped sharply and painfully, he dropped his shorts and half stood there in a crouch.

"Sit."

Alistair sat. Easing down his trousers, Ishaq slipped off his shoes and stepped out of his pants, and then easing down his boxers, stepped out of them. His legs were brown and hairy, and there was no tan line between his thighs and his buttocks or stomach. His dick and nuts were a slightly darker brown than his legs with a thick thatch of long, coarse black hair above his dick and curling around his balls. He stepped over to Alistair still sitting on the bed, his shorts about his ankles, his underwear about his knees.

"All right, do to me what your twelve-year-old buddy did you to."

Anton hadn't been his buddy, but Alistair figured now was not the time to make a distinction. He looked at the man's long, brown cock dangling between his legs and felt like gagging just with the thought of putting it in his mouth but he knew just like Anton had that he was not going to have a choice. Unlike Anton, he was no fag and had no desire to do this. He ever so slowly reached out slipped his fingers about the man's partially erect cock and gooseflesh formed immediately on his arms. It was the first cock he'd ever held other than his own and he was embarrassed, ashamed, and strangely aroused. He slowly raised it and slowly bent his head and opened his mouth. Slipping his lips over the knob he closed his mouth and immediately choked.

"I know it's big, but its going to get bigger, so you better get use to it," Ishaq observed. "Lick it instead for a while."

Sticking out his tongue, Alistair licked the man's cock gingerly. It tasted salty, but that could have been his imagination. It smelled though, of dick. He ran his tongue up and down the shaft and swirled it about the man's dark brown knob as instructed and slowly the man's cock grew until it stood out stiff and proud and slender, slenderer than Eddie's, but just as long.

"Now, put the tip in your mouth and breath through your nose until you're used to it, and then suck on it, like it's a straw."

Alistair did as he was told, fighting back the urge to puke. He slowly eased his lips farther and farther down and occasionally glanced up at the man as instructed. Ishaq quivered with arousal at the sight of the blond-haired cherub sucking his filthy dark cock with his smooth, cherry-red lips. The boy was well worth the two thousand he'd paid for this night. Despite his arousal, he calmed himself and inhaled and exhaled deeply, concentrating on the pleasure of being blown by the sweet-faced cherub and the eroticism of it being the boy's first time. For Alistair it was anything but erotic and pleasurable, and as he sucked on the man's throbbing organ and worked his lips up and down his shaft and over his knob he felt filthy and ashamed and knew what Anton must have felt like, thankful at least that he did not have an audience, unaware of course of the hidden cam and that Eli was at that moment watching his every move as he wanked himself off.

His jaws were beginning to ache and he was wondering if the man was ever going to come, expecting it to happen any second and fearing the moment and wondering how he was going to be able to swallow his slimy, hot cum, just the thought causing him to gag. Inexperienced he did not note the sudden throbbing of the thick vein running up the underside of the man's stiff brown cock nor know of its significance. Seconds later Ishaq was joyfully filling the youngster's mouth with his hot, thick Paki slime. Alistair did choke at that point, causing the Paki's thick cum to be sucked up the back of his throat and snorted out of his nose in thick goobers while the rest oozed down his throat. It was salty and bitter and brought tears to his gold-flecked hazel eyes. Delighted, Ishaq stood back, the final spurt flying through the air and hitting the beautiful boy in the face, cum already dribbling from his nostrils and over his smooth upper lip and oozing from his mouth and down over his lower lip and chin.

Sitting on the bed beside him, Ishaq caressed and kissed the dazed, benumbed boy, keeping his nipples erect and fiddling with his now limp cocklet, bringing it back to attention, combining sexual arousal and pleasure with the boy's feelings of filthiness and shame. Only as he began to approach his climax did Alistair become aware of the man's caresses and kisses. He felt so dirty, not just with the man's cum still hanging from his nose and the taste of his cum and foul cock in his mouth, but from having the Paki fiddling with his cock, making it feel hot and achy like when he fiddled with it and thought about girls. He stared down in embarrassment and shame at the slender, brown fingers tugging on his most private part as he felt the pressure rapidly building in his loins that preceded that ultimate joy a boy can know.

Ishaq was not about to let the boy experience that quite yet. Pulling off his shorts and underwear along with his socks and removing his torn shirt, he had the boy stand and bend over and Eli zoomed in the cam as Ishaq pulled apart Alistair's smooth, milk-white buttocks and stretched open his virgin butthole. Keeping his buttocks spread open with one hand, he caressed the boy's asshole with the tip of his index fingers, causing the boy's stiff cocklet to jerk with arousal and the strange new stimulation and with the frustration of having been left at the peak of its arousal without the satisfaction of ejaculating. Moistening his index finger with spittle, Ishaq slowly inserted it up the boy's backside and finger fucked him, causing him to groan and moan with the new stimulation and with the need to shoot off a load, his feelings of shame and filthiness superceded by his teenage randiness. Forming a circle with the thumb and forefinger of his other hand, Ishaq crowned the boy's knob with the circle as he worked the index finger of his other hand in and out of the boy's rectum. Desperate to get off, Alistair thrust his hips forward, driving his swollen cockhead through the circle, and trembling with the pleasure the horny fourteen-yer-old junior high school student began to fuck the circle formed from Ishaq's finger and thumb, thrusting his hips too and fro and sliding up and down his index finger in his desperation to get off.

Ishaq of course was not about to let the horny little bugger get off that easy and he suddenly and roughly twisted the boy's knob, turning erotic pleasure into sudden pain and causing his dick to droop and his desire to shoot off subside. Taking advantage of the boy's confusion and disappointment, Ishaq stood up and placing the tip of his once again erect cock against Alistair's butthole, he thrust his hips forward, ramming his stiff cock up the boy's virgin asshole in a single shove and causing him to cry out in pain is if Ishaq had just broken his hymen. Pulling his stiff cock back out, he spread apart Alistair's tight pucker and lubed it with a gob of spittle, and then threw the surprised and confused boy on his back on the bed. Raising him in the air by the legs, he roughly rammed his cock back up his virgin hole.

Delighting in the tightness and heat of the boy's virgin cunt, he began to hump him vigorously. As Alistair looked up at him with those gold-flecked hazel eyes and feathery eyelashes, his eyes filled with pain and humiliation and fear and lust, Ishaq fucked him so hard he bounced his slender fourteen-year-old body on the bed. It was so hot Ishaq had to pause several times or he would have shot his load, and when he finally did it was violent and delightful. He shot repeatedly and his hot Paki semen shot deep up the boy's rectum. Alistair's ejaculation was just as violent and delightful, his slender little boy cocklet jerking wildly in the air as his thin, early teen cum spurted out of his loose hose, spraying his face and chest with his watery cum. Gasping and panting with his ejaculation, his face flushed with pleasure but his eyes reflecting his shame and confusion how a straight boy could have cum and could have enjoyed being screwed up the ass, Alistair had never felt so humiliated and dirty in his life.

Seconds later, as the man withdrew his long, slender cock from his asshole with a loud and smelly pop and yanked him into a sitting position and demanded he lick the shit and cum and ass slime from his cock, Alistair took the man's begrimed, filthy cock in his mouth, large tears rolling down the fourteen-year-old boy's flushed, downy cheeks from those beautiful gold-flecked hazel eyes. Ashamed and defeated, the boy sat there stark naked on the bed and licked the man's dirty cock in a numb daze, his teenage cock still jutting up in the air with a pendant of cum hanging from the tip, evidence of his own ejaculation.

Considering the way Alistair and Eddie had tricked him and had participated in his humiliation and forced blowjob session months ago in the boys washroom at rgab, Anton had taken great delight in viewing the videos of the two of them from that night thanks to Cory, the looks of humiliation and shame and disgust on their faces and in their eyes a small reward for the humiliation they'd caused him. Knowing those feelings would be repeated over and over in the weeks and months to come, and knowing that they would be living in constant fear that their classmates, or their parents, would find out how they were spending their Friday and Saturday nights more than made up for the one afternoon of humiliation they'd put him through.

As his lover rolled over in his sleep and faced him, Anton raised himself on one arm and smiled down at him. His brilliant blue hair normally standing up in four inch [10 cm] high spikes down the centre of his scalp like some prehistoric dinosaur was now plastered in loose, sweaty strands over his shaved scalp. His turquoise eyeshadow and black eyeliner had smeared, leaving smudges on the pillow and on his nose and down his cheek. They had fallen asleep in each other's arms last night and both still had in their earrings and piercings. As his lover's smooth chest slowly rose and fell in his sleep, Anton reached over and traced the tattoo of a snake curling up around his right breast, its open mouth engulfing his nipple which was pierced and at the moment adorned with an iron ring from which hung a spiked mace, a gift from Anton to his lover for his fourteenth birthday last month. His lover slowly opened one eye and gazed up at Anton.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

In reply Michael Ainslie slipped his arms about Anton and drew his naked body to his and their lips met in a long, lingering kiss. Who would have thought that when old Arnold Penner had sent the shy, studious student to check on Anton in the boys room sixteen months ago and Anton had given him his first ever blow job, that six months later he'd get his ear lobes and rims pierced and would begin hanging around with Anton and his Goth friends, and that at Christmas of that year he'd get tossed out of rgab and end up joining Anton at his father's school and become a goosey Gander? And who would have thought that the one time honour student, the favourite of teachers, and model boy scout would be kicked out of the scout movement, and out of his own home as an embarrassment to his social-climbing parents. And who would have thought the Gilles would take him in, and that he'd fall in love with the weirdo, gob-spattered boy pervert who'd dropped on his knees in his piss drenched clothes and given him his first suck job?

As the two grade eight boys deep kissed, their hands roamed over each other's naked, sleep-damp, warm body, caressing each other gently and lovingly. Anton was still wearing his silver nip rings with the fine-linked silver chain connecting them and his Prince Albert, the rings and chain a gift from Michael for Anton's fourteenth birthday last week. As they kissed and caressed, his cock began to swell, and as it grew hard and angled away from his body, it pulled the chain tight, tugging on his young, tender nipples, the stimulation sending pangs of sweet pain through them and causing his cock to grow all the harder.

Michael grinned, knowing the sweet pain that his boyfriend was experiencing, and he silently thanked Cory Wilson for having suggested the gift, and for the suggestion three months ago that he approach Anton about moving in with him. Although the two of them had been friends and the two of them had sex with each other occasionally, it was not until he moved into the Wilson-Dean Estate and into Anton's bed that he really fully got to know and to appreciate Anton. That he was a bottom boy he'd known, but the depth of his devotion and the extent of his loyalty to a true friend he had not. His skills and knowledge of sexual techniques he'd also known, but the delight he could bring a top like himself he was discovering every day.

Snuggling down, he tongued Anton's exposed knob, running his tongue along the rim, and around his peehole and along his Prince Albert, causing his stiff cock to jerk wildly, pulling on his now swollen and pain-filled nipples. Anton, driven crazy by the actions of his lover, gasped and groaned with desire, willing to do anything his Goth classmate asked of him. His body aching for cock, he snuggled down and took Michael's stiff cock in his mouth, and as he expertly teased it as Ramon had taught him, he thought back to that first blow job he'd given Michael as he knelt in the puddle of piss in the boys room. His skill now was a far cry from his skills then, which even back then had been awesome to the virgin teenage honour student. Back then Anton had felt shamed and filthy and didn't much give a damn about anything anymore.

Now he licked and sucked on Michael's throbbing cock eagerly and willingly, delighting in the fragrance of his damp balls and the mushroomy flavour of his teenage prick. He knew of all the acts he and Michael had engaged in, Michael most enjoyed getting blown, and with his skills, he could bring Michael to an orgasm a half dozen times before allowing him to blast, and he fully intended on doing just that for the boy he loved more than anyone in the world. As Michael shuddered with the pleasure throbbing through his swollen cock and with the knowledge of the pleasure to come, he closed his eyes and licked his turquoise lips. It was fucking wonderful to be fourteen and in love, especially when you have a bottom boy like Anton.

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